Women in the small kingdom of Aeriana are disappearing.
Iris Daniels, a budding painter in the East Territory, is trying to keep her head down. In a kingdom filled with abilities, music, and Destined love, Iris is determined to build a career out of...
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"Reel the Danger in tight / tuck it in and kiss it goodnight. / Make peace with your Anxiety / it's time we forget propriety..."
—Danika Leighton, Peaceful Anxiety, Back to the Past album
Wylan could count on one hand the number of times his sister called something a problem. In Kit's world, a car chase or shootout wasn't a problem. Booking a hotel room or flight under an alias was not a problem.
To Kit, those were challenges.
When Kit said something was a problem, that meant it was a Big Fucking Problem.
The muscles along his back tensed. "What is it?"
"It's actually two problems," a slight pause, "maybe two and a half."
Wylan turned on his heel and immediately headed out back. Whatever the issues were, he needed to hear about them first, without worrying Iris and Kassian who were only a few short steps away.
Out back, the wind tugged on his t-shirt as he closed the large glass patio doors behind him. He stopped at the porch railing, spotting Thad down on the beach in a sweaty tank top, doing pushups on the sand. He tucked his thumb and pointer finger under his tongue and whistled.
Thad looked up mid-pushup.
Wylan tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. He held up three fingers. Then he brought his hands up, curled his first two fingers on each hand, pointed the knuckles at each other, and twisted them. Problem.
Thad brought his hand up near his head and stuck out his pointer finger. Got it.
"What is it?" Wylan asked Kit.
"Agent Traey has not reported in for approximately 49 hours," Kit said briskly.
Wylan planted his feet hip width apart and curled a hand on the white wooden railing in front of him. "Did you track his phone?"
"Did I track his—" Kit scoffed. "You're my brother, so I'm going to ignore that one. His phone has been pinging in a hotel room outside Faer City for the last 26 hours. Traey had a check-in 24 hours ago, and another one an hour ago. Both missed."
"I've got a team on their way to his last destination," Kit continued. Then, in a lighter tone, "Could be that Traey decided he wanted a last-minute vacation."
Her mask of a joke did nothing to hide the serious tone. Or the worry. Traey was an agent. Agents didn't ditch their posts. And they didn't take any last-minute vacations.
They didn't even take vacations. Scheduled or otherwise.
Neither of them took her words at face value, but Wylan still responded to it. "Or he's in desperate need of a rescue."
